


Judicial Affairs

by ApeUnit



Series: Judge Roebuck [1]
Category: Dredd (2012), Judge Dredd (Comics), Judge Dredd - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 07:09:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4469954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApeUnit/pseuds/ApeUnit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A corrupt Judge in a broken Sector deals with an illicit relationship and the consequences of his actions. This is my first story involving Judge Roebuck and it is set in the universe of the 2012 Dredd movie. So, just picture the uniforms, equipment, and the setting from the movie. Hope you all enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Judicial Affairs

**Judge Roebuck**

_“America is an irradiated wasteland. Within it lies a city. Outside the boundary walls, a desert. A cursed earth. Inside the walls, a cursed city, stretching from Boston to Washington D.C. An unbroken concrete landscape. 800 million people living in the ruin of the old world and the mega-structures of the new one. 17,000 crimes are committed daily; only six percent can be handled. Mega-Blocks. Mega-highways. Mega-City One. Convulsing. Choking. Breaking under its own weight. Citizens in fear of the street. The gun. The gang. Only one thing fighting for order in the chaos: the men and women of the Hall of Justice. Juries. Executioners. Judges.”_

JUDICIAL AFFAIRS

 

Rod Serling Block 0430:

            Judge Frederick Roebuck stood over the bed as he zipped his Kevlar reinforced jacket and individually pulled on his gloves.  He was tall, well over six feet, with blue eyes and faded brown hair, and young, only on the streets for five years.  As pulled his lawgiver from the nightstand and holstered it, the woman rolled over to the spot in bed he had just occupied.  The woman was Sarah Holmes, about the same age as Roebuck, with piercing emerald eyes and flowing red hair.  The Judge’s dressing woke Sarah who rubbed her eyes as she looked at him.

“Where are you going?” she inquired.

“Day shift rotation, roll call at 0600,” he replied.

 “I thought today was your day off. My husband won’t be home until noon, and I want you to spend time with me!”

“Well they’re shorthanded today and I got called in, so live with it!” Roebuck snapped.

Sarah dramatically turned her body away from the Judge in order to clearly project her displeasure.  Roebuck casually leaned over the bed and kissed her on the cheek.

“I’ll see you tonight once the shift is over.  Just give me a call when your husband goes to work,” he said.

She pulled the covers up to hide herself from his attention, yet pouting to solicit more.  Roebuck tucked his helmet under his arm, as he walked into the kitchen.  He set the helmet on the counter to check his lawscreen, a small tablet device on his wrist that displayed pertinent information, maps, and communications.  The lawscreen synced with the display on his helmet’s visor.  He flipped through pre-shift duty roster and assignments for the coming day’s patrol.  Sarah lay in bed when the screen on the tablet by her bedside lit up.  It was programmed to turn on and display a video feed whenever anybody entered the apartment.  Her face instantly turned white.

            Roebuck looked up from his lawscreen to see Mr. Kevin Holmes, who stared back at him in total disbelief.  The Judge lifted his helmet, the faded red paint and scratches attested to Roebuck’s experience, and placed it on his head.  He made his way toward the door, and turned toward the stunned cuckold.  With a brazen smile on his face he muttered,

“She’s all yours citizen.”

            The Judge exited the apartment, the automatic door shut behind him.  He paused for a moment to listen.  Shouts came from inside the apartment, followed by sounds of items breaking, the clear sign that the couple was in a fight.  Roebuck walked to the lift and boarded.  As the express elevator quickly descended 100 stories, the Judge finished the sync between his lawscreen and helmet.  He began to read the crime briefings for his Sector House, 288.  The apartment where Sarah lived was 24 West 103 _Rod Serling Block_.  This was the twenty-fourth apartment of the western quadrant of the one hundred and third floor of the block.  The elevator reached the parking floor and he stepped out.  He casually walked out of the lift, down a long hallway into the parking complex that sat beneath the Mega-Block.  Almost at the door, the lift chimed to signal it had arrived.  Staggering out was Sarah’s husband Kevin, holding his face that was beginning to swell.  Obviously a large object had collided with it.

“Hey Judge!” Holmes shouted, “…the fuck you doin’ with my woman!?”

            Roebuck continued, and ignored the man.

“Hey, I’m talking to you. Answer me dammit!” He continued, frustrated that he was ignored.  “You Judges aren’t even supposed to be having relationships I thought. I bet SJS will have a field day when I tell them the situation.”

            That got Roebuck’s attention.  The Judge turned around and stormed towards the husband, whose attitude changed instantly from rage to fear.  Judge Roebuck grabbed the man by his shirt.  Kevin Holmes was a short, pudgy man, prematurely balding, network technician, with unkempt facial hair.  The Judge firmly grasped the husband’s shirt, and hurled him against the wall.

“Get his through your head,” the Judge spoke in a firm, almost terrifying voice.  “There are 800 million people in Mega-City One you can fuck with, but I am not one of them.”

            Holmes stared back at the Judge, a face obstructed by the helmet.  The only feature visible was the mouth, which appeared emotionless.  The Judge’s grip tightened and Holmes just stared, afraid, not sure what to do.  And then the Judge spoke,

“If you ever talk to me or talk to anyone about me, I going to come to you at night and CUT YOUR FUCKING THROAT WHILE YOU SLEEP!! And I’ll make that whore of a wife of yours watch the entire thing.”

            Judge Roebuck swung Holmes around and threw him to the ground.  He casually turned and continued to the parking garage, the stunned husband sat in a frightened daze.  The man sat there, tried to collect himself, not sure what just transpired.  He had thought to have words with the Judge, prove he was a man, but here he was on the ground.  Now his mind raced about how to explain this to his wife.  Holmes was what one might consider a weasel, a rat.  He was quick to turn on anyone in order to better his position or get himself out of trouble.  Not at all afraid to extend the truth or flat out lie about events.  It served him well in his career to a point.  Nobody in the upper management of his company wanted a man of his character on their staff.  And so consequently, he was forced to work unfavorable hours, the midnight to noon shift, often with mandatory overtime.  He at least had a job, unlike so many.  As Holmes sat on the floor, humiliated, his mind filled with thoughts on how to get even with Roebuck.

            Roebuck weaved his lawmaster through the traffic on the busy Mega-Way.  The sun had yet to pierce the Mega-Blocks to illuminate the roadway as the morning rush took to the streets.  It was still early and traffic volume increased, but flowed quickly at a smooth pace.  It always astonished Roebuck, if Mega-City One had an astronomical unemployment rate, where were all these people headed in the morning?  As the sedans and wagons sped by, they clearly exceeding the posted limit, Roebuck had his mind on other affairs.  He contemplated his relationship with Sarah.  He desired to see her again, but was unsure where she wanted to take things.  The Justice Department forbade relationships; the idea was devotion to a significant other would distract their devotion to the law.  If the Special Judicial Squad found out about Sarah and Roebuck, he would certainly lose his badge. 

Ahead, Roebuck spotted the towering Sector House.  This massive structure was the central hub for all law enforcement efforts of Mega-City One Sector 288.  Contained within the Sector House was the office of the Sector Chief who oversaw all Judge Operations within Sector 288.  In addition, the building contained various other offices, computer monitoring and communications centers, living quarters, an armory, a garage, holding cells, mess hall, everything the Judges needed in order to perform their jobs. 

Across the street from the Sector House sat a coffee and doughnut shop, a real hole in the wall place, dirty, rundown, but a favorite spot for the Judges.  The owner made a wise investment when he established a doughnut shop right across from what one used to know as a “police station” before the Atomic War.  The old man served what he claimed were doughnuts, nobody definitively knew.  Nor did they want to write him up for health violations, if he closed they would lose their favorite spot.  None of the Judges wanted to spend their free time at the sector house; they much preferred to be outside its walls, away from the Watch Commander. 

Roebuck sped down the exit ramp from the Mega-Way onto the street below.  With five minutes until roll call started, he parked his lawmaster at the doughnut shop next to other the twenty odd bikes of Judges who deliberately intended to arrive late to roll call.  He powered off his own bike and dismounted, removed his helmet, brought his hand up and rubbed his eyes before he walked inside.  The air was stale, stagnate, the lights inside dim, the odd fixture flickered.  At the several tables sat the Judges, heads held low, the occasional grumble from one to another.  They had all lost faith in their Sector Chief, in the Watch Commanders.  They were deliberately insubordinate.  The Judges always arrived late to roll call or left before the Watch Commander excused them from the briefing.  As Roebuck pushed the door open, the moping Judges all turned their attention to him.

“You’re late,” one said to him.

“You all are late,” Roebuck replied with a sarcastic grin.

“Hey Roebuck…FUCK YOU!”     

            Roebuck placed his helmet on the table and pulled a chair out to sit down.  There were three other Judges seated around this table.  The first, Caroline Grady, had her arms crossed on the table and her head down, she was clearly asleep.  Next was Vernon Boone, he precariously balanced his chair on its two back legs and he was the one who initiated the verbal exchange.  The third was Rhett Marston, Roebuck’s patrol partner and his best friend albeit a good ten years older.  Roebuck braced his two elbows on the table top, rubbed his eyes, and then ran his hands over his head and tried to wake himself up.  Marston immediately caught on.

“Son, you look like sex. He treat you good last night!?” Marston jokingly asked.

“Fuck you,” said Roebuck as he let out a yawn.

“Well when you’re looking for a good time, give me a call big boy.”

“Oh blow me.”

“Hey now you have to buy me dinner first. I have standards. I don’t just put out on the first date!”

            The pair ran this routine between them often to annoy others.  Anybody who knew it was a joke ran a bet on when they would be investigated by SJS who might mistake it for a real relationship. 

“Ok all kidding aside, check this one out,” Marston said.  He pulled up a photograph of a scantily clad voluptuous Asian girl on his lawscreen to show Roebuck.  The lawscreens are strictly for official use only.

“Nice,” said Roebuck, “Very nice, are you fucking her?”

“Hey I can’t kiss and tell,” Marston smiled immodestly.  “But she said she’s from Hondo City, and son, I don’t know what they teach their women there, but ours would benefit from some lessons.”

“What’s her name?”

“You know, I forgot to ask.”

“Wait a minute, I know her!” Boone interrupted.  “She dances over at that strip joint on 14th.”

“What, at _Candy Apple_ or _Ecstasy_?” inquired Roebuck.

“ _Ecstasy_ is the bordello. _Candy Apple_ is the strip club,” said Boone.

“But you can still get ‘services’ at _Candy Apple_?” Roebuck asked with a confused look on his face. 

“No, _Candy Apple_ lost its brothel license about three weeks ago for allowing minors on site. The Watch Commander sent out a brief,” replied Boone.  “Guess you didn’t read it. Can’t say I blame you.”

“Well this sucks,” Marston interjected.  “ _Candy Apple_ always gave the Judges a nice discount, and some nights even comped us the girls. Best I’ve ever seen _Ecstasy_ do was maybe 10% off. Are you fucking kidding me!? What are they too good for us or something!?”

“Now hold on a minute,” Roebuck said and pointed to the picture still on Marston’s lawscreen.  “What’s her name going to say when she finds out you’ve been shacking up with all her ‘coworkers’. And you’re madly in love with her and you don’t know her name.”

“Ok first of all, she is neither a stripper nor a whore. I met her in the rec room of my Mega-Block. Had a few drinks, before you know it, it happened. Second, I never said I was in love with her. Roe, stop putting words in my mouth.”  Marston placed his hand on Roebuck’s thigh and spoke as he attempted to keep a straight face.  “You know you’re number one in my life.”

“I don’t know if it would be funnier if you two were actual Peter puffers or not,” said Boone.

“Hey Boone,” Roebuck turned and said.  “A thousand credits says you can’t fuck Grady.”

“I don’t fuck dudes, no interest,” Grady said, not lifting her head, but obviously listening into the conversation.

“No shit, she’s lez?” Boone asked.

“You moron! You really didn’t know? The crew cut didn’t give it away? That’s why I made it a thousand!” replied Roebuck.

“You’ve got a deal, but I get half the creds,” said Grady, but with her head still down.

            Marston turned toward Roebuck, and gave him a serious look before he spoke,

“Getting back to what I asked earlier, did you see her last night?”

“Yeah I did,” Roebuck said.

“Well??” asked Marston.  “How did it go? Something must be up if you’re looking all tired.”

“Her husband must’ve gotten off work early or something…Point is he came home when he wasn’t supposed to and caught me on the way out.”

            Marston threw himself back in an uncontrollable fit of laughter.  He leaned his seat back and almost lost his balance in the process.  The spectacle caught the attention of the other Judges in the shop.  Marston collected himself.

“So did he catch you two in the act or what?” Marston inquired.

“No, I was dressed actually. About to leave and come here when all of a sudden he walks in, completely dumbfounded,” said Roebuck.  “Oh and it gets better. The bastard follows me to the garage to try and confront me.”

“What did you do?”

“Threatened him, threw him to the ground. I think he got the message.”

            The door to the shop swung open with a tremendous thud, as it had been pushed open with some force.  In rushed six Judges from the Special Judicial Squad.  They wore the unmistakable uniforms, the grey shoulder pads, and the death’s head insignia on their helmet. These were the Judges who judged Judges.  In their hands they carried daysticks and while they shouted and hollered.

“Get up!” “On your feet!” “Fall in!” “Stand at attention. “Formal inspection, on the double!”

            The SJS grabbed the lounging Judges, pulled them to their feet, and threw them into line.  They poked and prodded them with the daysticks like herded cattle.  One of them kicked the chair out from Grady, she fell to floor.  Another stood over Grady and kicked her repeatedly until she managed to pull herself to her feet.  The SJS Judges continued their shouts and pushed the other Judges into a formation.  They knocked over tables, smashed glasses, and threw any loose articles on the floor. 

            Once the Judges were arranged in a line the “A” Watch Commander stepped in.  Zachary Eddington had served as Watch Commander for only two years.  In that time, he managed alienate just about every Judge under his command.  He had been promoted from the ranks of the SJS to Watch Commander where he was very unpopular.  Eddington had a reputation for prying into the business of everyone around him and was always quick to report someone for even slightest infraction.  As “A” Watch Commander for Sector 288, Eddington was quick to unexpectedly cancel days off, and require the Judges to work extra shifts.  He constantly shifted manpower, deployments, and rotations.  This left Judges constantly confused about which zones they were to patrol or where the nearest units would be.  All too often, Eddington spread manpower so thin, Judges became isolated and unable to receive backup in an adequate amount of time.  Several Judges lost their lives in the line of duty in Sector 288, cut off from reinforcements, on their own, while they fought against impossible odds.  It made the Judges easy targets to get shot up in an ambush by perps.  Eddington justified his decision and claimed the Judges could patrol more areas of the Sector; show the citizens that the law was everywhere.  In reality, they were stretched to the breaking point; unable to reduce the crime statistics.  They only put themselves in more danger.  And so, the Judges grew frustrated by Eddington.  They petitioned the Sector Chief to have him removed, it failed.  After all formal channels were exhausted, the Judges esprit de corps collapsed.  They were deliberately insubordinate and refused to follow proper procedure.  None would do a thing that might help make Eddington’s job any easier.

“Well what do we have here!?” Eddington asked rhetorically.  “Twenty of my Judges are here when they should be in roll call. Does anybody have an explanation as to why they are not present for roll call?”

            Eddington walked along the line of Judges that stood at attention, his hands clasped behind his back.  He strode by them, as a drill instructor inspects recruits.  The Judges all stood upright, but each of their faces displayed expressions of anger or disgust.  The SJS Judges flanked the sides to keep them in line.  Eddington stopped occasionally along the line to inspect a Judge’s uniform.  He would declare a Judge’s appearance unsatisfactory and cite them for a dress code violation.  As he continued down the line, he stopped at Roebuck.

“Judge Roebuck,” Eddington asked, “Why are you absent from roll call?”

“With all due respect sir,” replied Roebuck.  “Should you not be there as well?

            Eddington’s face turned red with anger, almost in an instant.  He motioned to one of the SJS Judges with a nod of his head.  The SJS Judge stepped forward.  He swung the daystick in his hand and struck Roebuck’s right leg just behind the knee.  It caught Roebuck by surprise and he let out a grunt in pain before he involuntarily collapsed to the ground.  Marston stood next to Roebuck and immediately turned to help his friend.  He even tried to throw a punch, but was set upon by the other SJS Judges.  They moved quickly to hold the other Judges at bay, who lashed out at the sight of one of their own knocked down. 

“STAY WHERE YOU ARE! BACK INTO LINE!” Eddington shouted.  “Anyone who fails to comply will be brought up on charges.”

            The Judges stopped their struggle with the SJS and fell back into line.  Eddington had a pleased look on his face, he felt powerful, in control.  Now the Judges listened to his commands and all it required from him was some force.  He turned to Roebuck, who was still on the floor, and as he attempted to stand, Eddington spoke.

“I do hope you enjoy staying up late Judge Roebuck, you’re now on overnight shift.  Roll call is at 1800 hours, please do arrive on time.”

            Eddington turned his attention to Marston.

“Judge Marston, attempting to assault a fellow Judge is a serious offense.  You are now on administrative suspension pending a formal hearing.  Report to the Sector House’s habitat wing, you are confined to quarters!”

            Two SJS Judges stepped forward, each to take one arm of Marston to escort him out.  The dignified Marston shrugged off the escort and walked out of the shop on his own.

“Judge Boone,” Eddington said as he turned to the man.

“Yes sir Watch Commander sir,” Boone replied in a reluctant, almost disgruntled tone.

“This dining establishment is atrocious. There are overturned tables, broken glasses, litter. This place is in clear violation of Mega-City One health codes. I command you to issue the proprietor with an order of closure under Section 24 of the Penal Code.”

            Boone silently acknowledged Eddington’s instruction.  He turned and walked up to the counter of the doughnut shop.  The old man who owned the place stared back, as tears formed in his eyes.  Boone apologized and tapped a button on his lawscreen.  The large video board outside the shop that served as the shop’s sign as well as all the other electronic displays inside instantly changed.  Every one now read CLOSED DUE TO HEALTH VIOLATIONS, BY ORDER OF THE JUSTICE DEPT.  The old man was broken, finished, and he began to cry. 

“Let this now serve as an order to all Judges in this sector. This establishment is now closed because of health violations. It is unlawful to gather here from now on. Should I find any Judges congregating here they will be brought up on charges. Now I believe you all are running late for roll call. So let’s get a move on shall we!” Eddington said, as the Judges were ushered out of the shop.

**000**

**Sector 288:**

            Judge Roebuck sat on his lawmaster in a vacant lot underneath the busy Mega-Way.  It was a secluded area in the shadows, and allowed Roebuck to collect his thoughts.  Four days had passed since his encounter with Sarah’s husband and his transfer to the overnight shift.  He had not see or even talked to Sarah in all that time.  A few times he tried to call, but there was no answer.  Maybe the jealous husband screened the calls?  He could not be certain.  The overnight shift was the miserable twelve hour span between 1800 and 0600 hours, the time all the creeps were most active.  Night seemed to change people, change them for the worse.  It appeared that way to Roebuck at least.  He checked his watch, 0345.

“When will this shift end,” he thought to himself.

            Roebuck worked the past four days in a row and now he looked forward to his three days off.  Four on three off was the rotation.  However, when he clocked out at 0600, as day shift took over, Eddington always seemed to show up with extra duty.  Roebuck, exhausted from the twelve hour shift, would be stuck almost until noon assisting in menial paperwork.  Eddington was unable to let Roebuck’s comment go, the one made at the doughnut shop.  With four days under his belt already, Roebuck looked forward to a nice weekend off.  He hoped to use the time to get into contact with Sarah.

“ _Control to Roebuck…could you please provide us with a status update?”_ the voice over the radio snapped.

“Control this is Roebuck. Show me at the corner of Avenue T and the on ramp to the cross sector Mega-Way. I am investigating suspicious activity,” he responded.

            Roebuck was in the area to investigate suspicious activity, but the suspects were gone on arrival.  He decided to stay a while to clear his mind from the night’s activity.  A lawmaster rumbled as it pulled into the lot.  It was Judge Boone, who had been involuntarily transferred to the overnight shift, as well.  He parked his lawmaster next to Roebuck’s and removed his helmet.   

“Anything good tonight?” Boone asked.

“Broke up four rapes in progress, new personal record I guess,” Roebuck said, trying to lighten the mood, but his mind was occupied.

“Hey you hear about the shooting at the _Candy Apple_.”

“Over the radio, the call came in when I was booking the creeps at rape number three. What happened?”

“A futsie, sitting by himself at a table. The girls were dancing. All of a sudden this guy gets up, pulls an SMG from under his coat and just starts blasting. Problem is all the bouncers there carry side arms.” Boone continued.  “So they open fire on the futsie. And all the patrons are caught in the crossfire. Crime scene techs are still combing the joint. The incident has caused quite a stir, even got the Sector Chief out of bed and on scene. He says charges will be filed against any bouncers if their side arms match any ballistics from victims.”

“Sounds like a rough night.”

“For you and me both.”

Roebuck turned his head down as he flipped through information on the _Candy Apple_ shooting.  He did not notice the figure approaching quickly.

“ROEBUCK!” The person shouted.

            Boone had his back to the man and he turned to get a look at who shouted.  Gunshots rang out as the mysterious man armed with a machine pistol opened fire on the pair of Judges.  In a quick hail of fire, bullets struck both Boone and Roebuck.  Boone fell from his bike, dead.  The gunman mistook Boone as Roebuck as Boone had turned in response to the name.  Therefore, he concentrated most of his fire at Boone.  The odd bullet fatally struck Boone in his head, where the helmet should have protected him.  Roebuck had also been hit, wounded, but still alive.  It had been unusually hot that night, as Roebuck sat on his bike.  He unzipped his Kevlar jacket just to cool himself down a bit.  Roebuck’s jacket managed to stop most of the bullets, but two struck the unprotected areas, one in the chest another in the gut.  He slumped forward on his lawmaster before he slid onto the ground.  The gunman was too frightened to get any closer and took off.  With his last bit of strength, Roebuck uttered the voice activated command that set his lawmaster into panic mode.  Immediately the onboard computer transmitted a distress call to all Judges in the Sector, as well as to the Sector House, that a Judge had been shot.  Every Judge nearby dropped what they were doing and raced to the scene. 

            Red lights flashed, the sirens wailed, a crowd of onlookers had assembled, held back by other Judges on the scene.  Roebuck saw a blinding light in his eye as sharp pains ran through his body.  As he focused, he made out a medic who held a flashlight in his eyes.  The medic spoke, his lips moved, but Roebuck could not make out any words.  He felt people tug him, he tried to resist.  Soon he felt himself lifted from the ground and then carried, placed into a small room.  The small room let out a screeching wail and seemed to toss and turn.  People in this small room seemed to scurry about in its confined space, their clothes stained red.  He tried to move his arms to investigate why his shirt felt so wet, why his chest hurt so badly.  The people in the small room got in his face every time he moved, or tried to sit up.  One of the persons in the room put a needle into his arm.  Then the room seemed to melt away and he drifted.

**000**

 

 

**Sector House 288:**

            The light shone in through the window, it was open, and a gentle breeze rolled in as did the sounds of traffic.  Roebuck lifted his head to see Marston.  He had woken up in one of the hospital rooms in the Sector House.  As he tried to sit up, a sharp pain ripped through his chest.  His hand automatically reached for it, just to try and soothe the pain.  And he slid back down into the bed.  Marston jumped to his feet to his feet to stand by his friend’s side.

“Hey now, take it easy. Doctor says you need to rest,” Marston said.

“So I guess…this is part where…I get my sponge bath…be sure to get in there…nice and good,” Roebuck responded with difficulty. He had to catch his breath to form the words.

“And he’s cured, back to your old ways already. I knew it’d take more than that to stop you.”

“How lon-” Roebuck managed before he broke out in a severe coughing fit.

“You’ve been out for a good three weeks I’d say.”

“How’s life…been?”

“Could be better, I’ve been stuck on paperwork detail. This happened while you were out. They never went through with the hearing, Eddington was overruled. He got back at me by keeping me off streets and behind a desk.”

“One quick… question. Why do they…still call it…paperwork? We do it all…by computer.”

            Without any warning, in walked Eddington accompanied by a small group of the clerical Justice Department Administrators.  He pushed Marston out of the way in order to speak directly with Roebuck.   As he read from notes on an electronic tablet, he spoke,

“Ah good to see you are awake. It has come to my attention that at the time of the shooting you did not have your protective jacket fitted properly. As a result you suffered grievous injury.”

            Roebuck gave the Watch Commander a clearly dumbfounded look, unable to believe Eddington was serious.  Eddington continued,

“Also, the now deceased Judge Boone was not wearing his helmet. This failure cost the Judge his life as it was a bullet wound to the forehead that proved to be fatal. Here is the decision that has been made. Once you have made a recovery you will face administrative punishment for uniform violation and failure to comply with Justice Department personnel safety regulations.”

            Eddington lowered the tablet to look Roebuck in the eyes and said,

“I should have you dismissed for dereliction of duty, you were just wasting time in that lot weren’t you!? But no, a concerned citizen called in some suspicious juves in that area. And you radioed control to report you were in the area and unable to locate the juves? This time the story checks out.”

            Eddington stood up.  Immediately, his staff turned to follow and the whole party left the hospital room.  Marston pulled a chair over and sat down next to the hospital bed.  Roebuck looked over at him, grabbed his chest again because of the pain.  Marston spoke,

“Hey Roe take it easy, doctor could probably give you a better explanation than I. Point is, a bullet punctured your lung. You’ll be out of action for a while you heal. So take it easy on the coughing or you’ll go to pieces.”

“Looks like…” Roebuck struggled for a breath to finish. “You took my breath away.”

“You know, you better hope one of those holo-card companies doesn’t steal that to add to their _get well soon_ collection,” Marston said as he brought his palm up to his face. 

“Look, all kidding aside…what the fuck happened that night? Vernon’s dead?...I’m shot…who do they think did it?”

“As of right now, the Justice Dept. official has no leads, the case is ongoing, all that bullshit.”

“In a city where it seems…security cameras outnumber citizens…I get shot in the one…blind spot,” Roebuck tried to joke, but his frustration was apparent.

“If you want to go ahead and give your report to me, I can put it on the record. I did my best keeping the psi-division away. ‘Comrade’ Eddington wanted them to extract an account while you were under. I figured you didn’t want one of those mind readers snooping around in your head. In the event they uncover something that’s best left hidden. I have a buddy over there that owed me a favor. Long story short, they never made it, something about a scheduling conflict. We’ll find whoever did this and deal with them. Everyone on the street knows to take him alive, so you can personally pass sentencing.”

            Roebuck proceeded to tell Marston the events of that night.  He recalled the events and gave his account of what happened.  In his mind the case was already solved.  He of course wanted to know what the Justice Department knew, and to ensure they did not learn what he knew.  He already knew the shooter, the disgruntled man who, though threatened, decided to lash out.  Roebuck realized he had to settle the matter, off the record, so no one would learn the true motive behind the shooting.

**000**

            For eight weeks Roebuck moped around the Sector House, between the infirmary, rehabilitation, and physical fitness evaluations to clear him for active duty.  All the advances in medicine aided in his quick recovery, but he still felt the occasional sharp pain in his chest.  The judicial board cleared him of any misconduct, though Eddington vehemently protested.  Although, the uniform and safety polices would be strictly enforced from now on.  He stuck to the story that the shooting was random, just a random creep targeting Judges.  All the Judges on the street were doing their part, roughing up criminals, knocking a few heads in the search for answers.  They had to send a message to the citizens that there are serious consequences for shooting Judges. 

            Roebuck sat on his lawmaster in the garage after roll call.  It was his first day back and the overnight shift was about to start.  He flipped through the screen on the bike as he read the crime reports, but images of that night flashed in his head.  Like a video stuck on a loop, he saw his friend, Judge Boone, turn and take the bullet meant for him.  He saw his friend fall to ground, dead, and he also fell, unable to help.  The sharp pain from the bullet burned in his chest as he sat and recalled the events.  He shook his head, cleared his mind, and then radioed in to control to report _in service_. 

**000**

**_Rod Serling Block_ **

**2300 hours:**

The lights in the buildings were a blur, as he raced by.  Roebuck had a prearranged meeting he had hoped to make before control assigned him to an emergency call.  He slowed his bike down as he approached the intersection and turned into the alley.  The lawmaster came to a stop, balanced by his right foot on the ground.  He did not have to wait long, as the person he was to meet stepped out of the shadows shortly after his arrival.  The person said nothing and handed a small package to Roebuck.  There was scarcely time for the Judge to make out the character was a man or woman before they retreated into the shadows.  Roebuck opened the box, inside was a pistol.  He had arranged it with Marston during his recovery, an unregistered pistol.  This pistol had no ballistics on file with the Justice Department, no serial number, even a special material on the handle resistant to fingerprints.  These models were very popular among the criminals of Mega-City One, who preferred anonymity.  Roebuck removed the pistol, discarded the box, and placed it in a compartment on his bike.  He then gunned the motor and took off.      

            The city was filthy, putrid, unforgiving.  There had been no word from Sarah since the morning he left her.  Every time he tried to contact her, there was no answer.  This was the first time Roebuck was able to be away from the Section House.  With the unregistered pistol in his possession, he made for the _Rod Serling_ _Block_ , as quickly as he could.  The visions raced through his head, of his friend and fellow Judge, Boone.  He felt angry, almost enraged.  It was his affair and his recklessness about it that got his friend killed.  The bike weaved through traffic at an almost unsafe speed. 

The Block was in sight ahead, its purple neon name letters ran vertically up the building.  Tasteless graffiti covered the walls of the building within reach from the ground.  Trash and paper blew around, as cars dove by the building’s front.  Roebuck pulled around to a dark alley across from the block.  He leaned some discarded pallets against his lawmaster in order to conceal it.  Then he removed his helmet and jacket for it was too distinctive with the large shoulder pads and badge, and also his duty belt and his lawgiver.  The lid to the compartment on the bike opened and he took out the pistol and a plain, dark leather jacket.  In their place he stuffed his uniform items, and left his helmet on the seat.  He pulled on the leather jacket and placed the pistol in a special customized pocket within the lining.  With his hands in the jacket pockets and his head held low, he wandered across the street. 

            Outside the entrance to the block were the usual pimps, hookers, drug dealers, junkies, vagrants, and other interlopers.  There to harass anybody who tried to enter with sales pitches or pleas.  As Roebuck tried to pass, a hooker stepped in his way.

“Hey handsome, want some company tonight,” the hooker said.

“Look I’m not in the mood, will you get out of my way!?” Roebuck replied in an annoyed tone.

“What I am not good enough for you? You meeting a girlfriend? Bring me up there and we’ll make it a fun night!”

“Get the fuck outta my way!” Roebuck shouted as he pushed the hooker aside.  He felt himself being grabbed by two large individuals.

“Who the hell do you think you are!? Coming up here to rough up the girls,” one of the men said.

            They threw Roebuck to the ground.  He put out his hands to brace the fall, but he still fell hard.  The two men started to kick Roebuck, directing their blows to his ribs.  The Judge involuntary rolled onto his side and a kick caught him right in the area he had been shot.  The sharp pain burned intensely in his chest, as he started to cough.  The coughing fit was severe to where blood came out.  The two attackers let up when they saw the blood.  They just wanted to teach a lesson, not kill the man.  Roebuck’s hand was covered in his blood from the cough. 

“That ought to teach you mutha fucker,” one of the creeps said.  “If you want to touch the girls, you’ve got to pay up first. Hey grab his wallet, let’s at least let him pay for his touching.”

            The other creep turned Roebuck over onto his back and sifted through his jacket pockets.  He pulled the pistol out and passed it to the other creep.

“Well someone was in a hurry,” the creep said waving the pistol.  “So who was getting bumped? Wife? Girlfriend? Boyfriend?

            The other creep went through the pockets in search of money.  He found a solid flat metallic object and removed it.  Upon closer examination of the badge, he froze.

“Oh shit man, we just roughed up an undercover Judge man, we’re fucked!”

“Shut up! What’s a Judge doing here with an unregistered pistol? I bet something off the record. And I bet his buddies don’t know he’s here, and when they miss him they won’t know where to look. So let’s waste him here.”

“FREEZE!” a woman’s voice shouted.

            The two creeps looked up to see as Judge Grady approached with her lawgiver drawn.

“Drop the weapon and put your hands in the air now!” the Judge ordered.

            The two creeps put their hands in the air to comply.  They were ordered onto their knees and paced their hands behind their back.  Grady moved quickly to cuff them. 

“Hey we’re innocent, the gun belongs to him,” one of the creeps said.

“Yeah we were just doing self defense, he never said he was a Judge,” said the other.

“You two shut the fuck up, or I’ll up the charges from assault to attempted murder of a Judge. That’s a capital offense,” Grady shouted and quieted the pair.  “And any citizen who fails to leave the scene will be charged with obstruction, mandatory five years.”

            The crowd of onlookers began to disperse.  Grady moved to help Roebuck to sit up on a step just out of earshot of the creeps.

“You alright Roe? What the fuck happened? You just get cleared for duty and now this?” Grady said.

“Glad to see you too Carol,” replied Roebuck.

“Cut the shit Roe, you and Marston aren’t as funny as you two think. Now you mind telling me what the fuck you’re doing out here, out of uniform with an unregistered?”

 “I’m handling something, don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry about it!? That’s ridiculous, whatever you’re up to I’m now involved. You’ve incited two punks that now face fifty years each. And why do you need an unregistered?”

            Grady stopped, her expression was cold.

“Unless, you’re here for Kevin Holmes,” she said.

“This doesn’t concern you Carol,” said Roebuck.

“Who told you? How did you know he was a person of interest in the shooting case? We made sure to tell as few Judges as possible to keep you from going out on a revenge murder. I know he killed Vern, I know he shot you, but you’re connected to the case. It is a clear conflict of interest for you to handle the execution.”

“What are you accusing me of?”

“I don’t know who told you, but I know why you’re here. You’re here to kill Holmes. We don’t have concrete evidence to link him to the murders; I’m here to bring him in for interrogation.”

“Why was I never formally told he was a suspect?”

“Because the Sector Chief worried you might do something stupid, like this. But it appears you found out and confirmed our fears. The bastard will see justice. Just let us catch him the legal way.”

            Grady walked over to the creeps and un-cuffed them.  She scanned their identification cards on her lawscreen.

“You two are in the system and on my shit list,” Grady spoke.  “If I ever see either of you again or you discuss this night with anyone, you will both be charged with attempted murder of a Judge. Now get the fuck out of here.”

The two creeps took off as fast as they could and vanished into the night. Grady turned back to Roebuck and helped him up.  She lifted his arm over her shoulder and helped him away from the building.  He directed her to the lawmaster hidden across the street.  Grady helped him cross the street and got him on his bike.  She then said,

“I’ll go pick up Holmes, and I don’t want any excuses. I’m also keeping the unregistered. When I have him I’ll call in a catch wagon to take him back to the Sector House. I want you to drive north east about eight blocks and wait for me there. Occupy your time with a traffic stop or ticket a vagrant. Just so control doesn’t assign you to anything active. Then we’ll think of way to explain your injuries and send you home.”

            The pain his chest was almost unbearable.  He weaved his lawmaster dangerously down the streets, the pain made it hard to steer.  Luckily there was not much traffic in this part of the Sector.  When he traveled the sufficient distance he came to a stop at a desolate intersection.  Either side of the street was lined with only tech businesses.  These were local branch offices that were closed at night.  With everything closed the street seemed like a ghost town.  Roebuck noticed a large parking garage for one of the tech companies.  It was completely deserted except for a solitary sedan with its lights on.  It was 2350 hours and these companies usually had one overnight employee to perform system maintenance.  Roebuck assumed the vehicle was an employee’s, but went to investigate just to keep the dispatcher off of his back.  Roebuck pulled into the garage and stopped his bike a good distance to the rear of the vehicle.  He wanted Control to run the vehicle’s tags before he approached, to determine if action needed to be taken at a distance.   

_“Roebuck to Control,”_ he radioed.

“ _This is Control, go ahead_ ,” the dispatcher responded.

“Control, show me at the parking lot of the CompNet on Gates Ave. Investigating a suspicious vehicle.”

“ _Roger, we are accessing the building’s garage cameras, standby. Be advised we have spotted the vehicle and are running the plates now…Vehicle is registered to a Kevin Holmes, Apartment 24 West 103 Rod Serling Block_.”

            Roebuck became enraged.  He had come across the man who shot him.  This was the company Holmes worked the overnight shift for.  But the garage was lined with cameras; he could not simply start shooting.  All that did not matter to him, the pain from the beating vanished, replaced now by rage.  The Judge dismounted his bike and started towards the vehicle.  Holmes opened the door to car, his hands full with a synti-cafe and his briefcase.  He turned to shut the door and saw the Judge approach.  The cup fell to the ground, the caramel colored liquid splashed about.  Roebuck advanced towards Holmes, his pace quickened, the anger inside him grew.  Holmes jumped head first back into his car.  He fumbled around with the glove compartment to open it, and retrieve its contents. 

“LET ME SEE YOUR HANDS!” Roebuck shouted, as he drew his weapon.

            Holmes found what he wanted in the glove compartment.  It was a machine pistol, the same one that killed Boone and wounded Roebuck.  He had purchased it in a back alley deal from an anonymous contact.  He was furious with his life, no advancement at his job, and a disloyal wife.  This was the final straw, Holmes snapped and decided to take revenge by killing Roebuck. 

“SIR,” Roebuck shouted again.  “PUT YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM AND SLOWLY EXIT THE VEHICLE!”

            Holmes sat up in the seat with the machine pistol is his hand.  He raised the weapon, turned around in the seat and fired.  A spray of bullets shattered the rear window; shards of glass fell in a million pieces.  The automatic fire was not concentrated, blind.  Shots bounced randomly all over the garage.  Roebuck was able to quickly take cover behind a concrete pillar.

 “Roebuck to Control, shots fired at my location. I am engaging, be advised.” Roebuck radioed.  

The shots ceased briefly, as Holmes climbed into the back seat of his sedan.  He released the now empty magazine from his weapon and slid in a full one.  This was his last twenty round magazine.  Holmes switched to semi-automatic to conserve ammunition.  With the lull in gun fire, Roebuck peered from behind his concrete pillar, his weapon raised.  He fired several well placed shots at the vehicle’s rear bench seat. 

            Holmes let out a scream and grabbed his right upper thigh.  He placed his hand over the wound and attempted to stop the flow of blood.  Roebuck advanced from cover and fired several more rounds.  This kept Holmes pinned down while Roebuck moved.  The Judge made it to an adjacent concrete pillar closer to the vehicle.  He stood in cover and reloaded his lawgiver.  Holmes grew desperate; he held the machine pistol over his head and fired five shots blindly.  In a panicked effort, he opened the right rear door of the sedan and pulled himself onto the ground.  The fall from the seat to the ground was not graceful and caused Holmes great pain when he bumped his wounded leg.  He pulled himself to a seated position, braced against the side of the vehicle.

“Holmes!” Roebuck shouted.  “It’s over. Why don’t you come out and let’s have a talk!”

“You think I’m stupid, you prick,” Holmes replied.  “I give up to you, you’re passing instant judgment. And then I’m a dead man. No, I’m gonna sit tight and wait for your friends to get here. I surrender to them. Then I claim future shock, you were screwing my wife and that drove me over the edge. Your career gets fucked and I’m sitting in a psych-cube laughing.”

            The wail of sirens grew clearer, as they approached.

“Looks like your friends are almost here,” Holmes taunted.  “Enjoy your last minutes as a Judge!”

“You’re not getting away with this you fuck!” said Roebuck.  “You killed a Judge remember, that isn’t so easily overlooked. And what about you wife? She going to wait around for some loon locked up in a psych-cube. A piece of shit working shit hours not going anywhere? The minute I lose my badge I’m going right to her. So in the end Holmes you still lose Sarah to me.”

            Roebuck brought his anger under control; he was able to focus more clearly.  The cameras all over the garage recorded his every move, but their flaw was no audio.  The actions were recorded, but not the words.  Roebuck at this point could not shoot Holmes outright.  He would have to do it in self defense.  Meanwhile, Holmes was incensed by the comments made.  He suffered from almost paranoid feelings of inadequacy.  It is what drove him initially to shoot Roebuck in a jealous rage.  Holmes’ anger boiled over.  He flipped the machine pistol back to full automatic and pulled himself from the ground.

“FUCK YOU!” Holmes screamed, as he pointed his weapon.

            The Judge had expected this.  He had already advanced from the cover of the concrete pillar.  As the crazed Holmes stood, Roebuck trained his lawgiver and fired.  All the shots hit their target.  Holmes recoiled back a few steps.  He looked down to see the several bullet wounds that pot marked his chest.  The machine pistol had already fallen from his hands.  He tilted his head down and ran his hands along his chest.  They were soon stained red with his blood.  Holmes dropped to his knees.  His last action was to reach for the machine pistol, but he fell dead before he could get his hands on it. 

            Roebuck slowly approached the body, his lawgiver raised and trained.  The other Judges on their lawmasters pulled into the garage.  Holmes lay dead on his face, as Roebuck stood over the body.  The Judge used his boot to roll over body, and stared into the lifeless expression on Holmes’ face.  He holstered his weapon and removed his helmet to wipe the sweat from his brow. 

“Hey Roe, you alright,” one of the Judges yelled.  Roebuck recognized it as Grady.

“Yeah I’m alright,” Roebuck said.  “Creep’s wasted though.”

            Grady ordered the other Judge that accompanied her to call in a meat wagon for Holmes.  She then pulled Roebuck to the side and the pair kept their conversation inaudible to others.

“You sent me here on purpose didn’t you?” Roebuck questioned.  “How did you know he was going to be here?”

“I did you a favor,” Grady replied.  “You were going to shoot him before this night was over. I only wanted you to keep your job in the process. And I checked with his employer, he starts work at midnight. I figured you’d catch him here. Look, now he’s dealt with, it’s done. You justifiably killed him. It was him wasn’t it? The jealous husband that caught you, you mentioned it that morning in the doughnut shop.”

“…Yeah it was him,” Roebuck said in a somber tone.

“And so Boone had to die because you fucked around with some man’s wife? You drove him to this. Anyways, I’ve sufficiently covered things with the investigation. They never knew Holmes was the shooter.”

“What do you mean?”

“I told you that to keep you from doing something stupid. Shooting a perp with an unregistered, no you didn’t need that.”

“I had it under control. You didn’t need to cover for me”

“Will you shut up and let me finish!? That wife Sarah tried to visit you in the hospital wing. Luckily Marston intercepted her before she could in detail explain how she knew you. I got her name from the visitor check in. And so I looked into her, into her husband. He stepped out from work and returned the night you were shot. The shooting corresponds with the hours he was gone. So that covers motive and opportunity. Plus checking your computer logs, you made several calls to Sarah and ordered several traces on Mr. Holmes. You seemed to know who the shooter was. I kept it from the investigation to give you your shot at fixing your mess.”

“Hey Carol,” Roebuck said in a sincere tone, looking her right in the eye.  “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Vern’s death is on your hands. Losing your badge wouldn’t be a suitable punishment. Now everyday when you put on that uniform and go out, you’ll have to live with being responsible for Boone’s death. He’s dead because of you.”

            Grady turned and walked back toward the scene.  The flickering red and blue lights reflected off of the concrete walls of the garage.  Roebuck stood there, unable to believe what Grady just said.  That keeping the job and living with the guilt was a worse punishment.  The images of that night again flashed in his head.  He saw Boone collapse, dead. 

The pain return to his chest once again, it was first time it bothered him since the shootout with Holmes started.  His injuries from earlier in the evening aggravated him.  Roebuck looked down at his jacket at an odd indentation.  He pulled at it and removed a crushed slug.  Now, he had an excuse for the chest injuries and another reason to see a doctor.  He had been shot.  Holmes’ wild shooting managed to find a target.  This time he was lucky, the Kevlar had stopped the round, but it still hurt and left him bruised.  He felt himself become weak, the pain overwhelmed him.  He put out his hand to brace himself against a concrete pillar.  The medics had arrived and put Roebuck down on the stretcher to take him away.

**000**

**Sector House 288:**

            Roebuck stepped out of the meeting and breathed a sigh of relief.  He had spent the last three hours being grilled over the events of Boone’s murder, his shooting, and Holmes.  It had been two days since he fatally shot Holmes in the garage.  This was a formal inquest conducted by the SJS whenever a Judge used lethal force against a suspect.  The purpose was to prove if it was a justifiable homicide.  The tribunal ruled in Roebuck’s favor.  A majority of the questions pertained to Roebuck’s conduct prior to Holmes’ death.  They questioned him about Boone, about Holmes, why he and Boone were targeted by Holmes.  The crime lab identified the machine pistol recovered at the garage as the same one that killed Boone and wounded Roebuck.  The questions then focused on how Roebuck found Holmes, how he identified Holmes as the shooter.  Roebuck rehearsed his responses.  He told the SJS he had no prior knowledge of Holmes, and he pulled to into the garage after he spotted a solitary vehicle.  Since it was about midnight, Roebuck stated he found it suspicious there was a vehicle in the garage when the offices were closed.  He wanted to investigate and determine if the driver was an employee or a potential criminal.  The video corroborated Roebuck’s story as Holmes fired first and required lethal force to suppress.  Roebuck labeled Holmes as a deranged individual determined to kill Judges.  That is why he fired at the pair in the lot and shot at Roebuck in the garage.  It appeared to Roebuck that the SJS accepted this explanation.  There was no hard evidence to counter Roebuck’s testimony.  It was just dumb luck Roebuck ran into Holmes at the garage.  Eddington, though not present at the inquest, submitted a report that suspected a possibility of a prior connection between Roebuck, Boone, and Holmes.  His report claimed the three were all lovers locked in a love triangle that turned violent.  The SJS quietly dismissed the report.  Marston stood outside of the room to meet Roebuck as he emerged.    

“Hey Roe,” Marston said. “How do you think you did?”

“I did fine, I told the truth,” Roebuck sarcastically joked.

            The pair walked together through the halls of the Sector House and carried on their conversation.

“So you hear what happened? I picked up the transfer orders the other day. The Sector Chief is out. Rumor is he’s taking the walk,” Marston said.

“You’re shitting me,” replied Roebuck.

“I swear to Grud, Roe. Turns out the Sector House’s performance was under an administrative investigation. Crime was up, arrests were down, morale…sucked. The higher ups at the Hall felt the old man hadn’t been effectively running the 288. He’s been asked to step down and take retirement. And he wants to take the walk.”

  
“No shit.”

“Anyway, big command shake-up. They’re sending an out of Sector to take the old man’s job. Eddington is pissed he didn’t get the promotion. Best if we not aggravate him for awhile. But, they’re also sending over all these rookies, trying to break up the reputation of the Sector a bit with fresh blood.”

“Virgins,” Roebuck gruffed.

“They’re offering a bunch of transfers, your girl Grady has applied. Next will probably be a round of mandatory transfers.”

“Shit, sounds like the fun is over.”

“I’ll say.”

            Roebuck and Marston continued through the Sector House and arrived at the recreation lounge.  They both had a few hours until their shift started.  The lounge was deserted and they each took a seat.

“Hey Rhett,” Roebuck said. “Grady mentioned, right after I had been shot, a woman came to visit me.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Marston responded in a serious tone.  “That was Holmes’ wife. Look I talked to her, tried to calm her down. She was fucking hysterical when she came in. I told her to calm down and sent her home with strict instructions not to contact you until you or I did.”

“You know what I’m just realizing. If she signed into the building, why has no one checked the building logs and seen Holmes’ wife came here?”

“No idea. Grady was working the desk that night. You might want to follow up with her.”

“Have you tried to get into contact with Sarah? I haven’t been able to reach her, even without Holmes to block my calls.”

            Marston leaned forward to speak more directly with Roebuck.  He paused a few moments before he spoke.  His body language conveyed his seriousness.

“I think this is best you hear this from me and not from the official report.  The crime-techs found dried blood all over the Holmes apartment.  They discovered dried blood that appeared to have been hastily wiped up, blood residue on a few knives as well. And I’m sorry Roe, her body in the Block’s garbage disposal unit. They think she had been dead for a few weeks.”

            Roebuck sat back in the chair.  He held his hand up to his chin in a contemplative manner.  His mind was a furry of thoughts and emotions.

“You know Rhett,” Roebuck said in a somber tone.  “I can’t get out of my head what Grady said to me the other night when I shot Holmes. She said all this was my fault. That living with what I’ve done is more of punishment than losing the job. I got Boone killed and the bastard murdered Sarah. And it’s all because of what I’ve done.”

            Marston reached out his hand and braced it against Roebuck’s shoulder.  He gripped the shoulder to get Roebuck to look him in the eye.

“Roe, you cannot blame yourself for this. You’re only human. You fell for a girl you shouldn’t have and she should’ve come on to you either. That you fucked up. You had no way of knowing Holmes would act like he did. He’s the one who killed Boone; he’s the one who killed Sarah.”

“But, you don’t get it; I am the one who set him off!” Roebuck said, as he became distraught.

“Holmes could’ve been playing too many video games or got pissed at the news and decided that people had to die. In the end it was his decision. He acted. They died because of him.”

            Marston stood up.  He wanted to give Roebuck some time alone, but wanted to part with some advice first.

“You need to know that it wasn’t your fault. There was nothing you could do differently. Holmes chose to be the monster, and you stopped him.”

            Roebuck planted his elbows in the armrests of the chair.  His hands supported his head as he leaned forward and stared at the ground.  He was too focused on the guilt right now to fully hear his friend out.  Marston turned and left the room.

            Outside the window to the recreation lounge the city bustled at its normal pace.  800 million people living in the ruin of the old world, and in the mega-structures of the new one.  The Mega-City did not stop to morn, stop to grieve, stop to think.  It keeps going.


End file.
